


Washington Square

by executrix



Category: Revenge - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-07
Updated: 2012-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-29 02:26:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/executrix/pseuds/executrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aftermath of a quiet evening at home for Nolan and Tyler. Occurs before 1-11, "Duress" and probably AU even then.</p><p>Kids, don't try this at home!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Washington Square

0  
Tyler always fell asleep immediately. Like a rock. And slept, apparently guiltlessly and dreamlessly, all night. Which is the way to piss an insomniac **right off**.

1  
“It’s almost Labor Day,” Tyler said. “Pretty soon, everybody’ll close up their Hamptons place and move back to the City.”

Nolan had a little place—almost a dollhouse, he said--in the West Village, but he wasn’t in any hurry to leave.

2\.   
Tyler wore his suit, with the vintage Ralph Lauren tie rolled up in one pocket, so he could stay over at Nolan’s on Sunday night and go right to work on Monday morning. In order to get Ash off his back, he had to tell her that he had to stay home and work Sunday night. He expected at least four calls and nine texts, but he could say that he shut off the phone to concentrate. To get Sunday off, he also had to spend Saturday night providing her with entertainment services to which he assigned a sticker price of about $2,500.

3\.   
Nolan’s bedroom had thick carpet in a creamy sand color, and thick drapes that almost matched. There was a gigantic bed, with a thin bronzy frame that air-quoted a canopy, and a multi-gym unit that loomed, spidery, in the near dark.

4.  
Tyler woke up. He pushed up to Baby Cobra position. There was a pair of handcuffs dangling from the headboard. He didn’t remember **them** being there. There was also an empty syringe on the night table on his side of the bed, and he was damn sure that hadn’t been there.

He rolled over, hearing a slight crackle.

“Oh, hi,” Nolan said fastidiously. Nolan was sitting up, doing something on a laptop that if it had been any thinner would have crumpled like a Dali watch. “You’ve been out for about twelve hours.”

“ **What!** I missed work…” Tyler heard the crackle again. He patted the source of the sound, and found a large bandage taped to most of one buttock with adhesive tape. “What the…”

“Oh, that,” Nolan said, closing the laptop and putting it on the other night table. “Yeah, while you were asleep, I shot you up with a Child’s Garden of Barbiturates. Then my new friend Rocky came over and tattooed my name on your ass. As a kinda permanent pink While You Were Out slip. Because you belong to me now, so it’ll be up to you to come up with a clever explanation in the steamroom at the Harvard Club. Or, you know, Ash’s bedroom. Or wherever.”

“Are you crazy? Did they even use a clean needle?”

Nolan tilted his head and squinted. “Let me think. Wait, no…really sure he didn’t.”

The drugs must have been wearing off, because Tyler felt what he knew was just the first timid wave in a tsunami of pain.

“How could anybody, even you, do something this—vile, and low, and disgusting, and….”

“Okay, done with you for today, go clean yourself up. Ed’ll drive you wherever you want to go.”

“…which will be straight to the police, you….”

“Tyler, Tyler, Tyler, time for some of that piercing HBS-style decision-tree analysis. Because, I think not. Really high correlation between being rich and never going to jail no matter what kind of shit you pull. Ed’ll take you to the police station, if that’s what you want, but I’ve got my $600-an-hour lawyer on standby for my one phone call. And when he breezes in, and his raincoat costs more than each cop’s car, well, they’ll hate him and they’ll hate me maybe even a little more than they do now, but they’ll snap to and obey.”

“I don’t care, I’ll tell them what you did…”

“But that’s where the analysis comes in. Because you can tell them that you wanted to sleep with me, in which case they’ll despise you, or you can tell them that I raped you, in which case they’ll despise you and laugh at you too. Cops around here? Basically a bunch of blue-collar losers who did their sensitivity training with the Khmer Rouge.”

Tyler tried to struggle to his feet. Nolan leaned over and swatted him on the ass. Tyler squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to cry out as the pain arced all through his body.

5.  
The guest bathroom for the master suite had almost as many mirrors as the master bathroom. Tyler stood in a cloud of steam, desperately scrubbing, for a long time. He was afraid to go to a hospital—far too many explanations would have to be made—and he wondered if he knew any doctors who would do what had to be done and keep their mouths shut. He was worried about HIV, and hepatitis, and….could you get rabies from a dirty needle?

Even top-quality adhesive tape isn’t proof against an onslaught of water pressure and steam, so when Tyler slid the shower door open and stepped outside, he steeled himself to look at the bandage.

It was perfectly clean, although limp from being soaked through. Unbelieving, he turned it over and over. Then he looked into one of the full-length mirrors at his pristine skin. Even Nolan’s handprint was already fading down past strawberry.

His phone, which had spent the night on the sink, lit up and purred. NEW TEXT, it said. And “Monday, August 22, 7:04 a.m.”

 _Hi, sleepyhead. Missed you last night—A”_ the text read. “Wait a minute…” he said, aloud, then fished his Rolex DateJust out of his pants pocket for confirmation.

Which meant that, on top of everything else, he could probably make it to work on time. If he made Big Ed get stuck in traffic, which hardly seemed like adequate recompense.

6.  
Tyler charged out of the bathroom, knotting his tie threateningly although it was around his own neck. Nolan was doing sit-ups on the inclined board because, after all, you could do sit-ups on it too.

“See? I played a player. I guess my social skills aren’t as bad as you always say,” Nolan said.

“No, Nolan, what you did was acting. That’s, like, the opposite of being a human being.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it? Too bad you weren’t over where all the mirrors were so you could see your face.”

“You absolute bastard! How could you do this to me?”

“’I can be very cruel,’” Nolan said. “’I have been taught by experts.’ You think this is bad? Don’t ever be around an engineering school on April Fool’s Day.”


End file.
